


His Savior

by singingtater



Series: His Savior [1]
Category: SHINee
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingtater/pseuds/singingtater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve been different for as long as you can remember. You don’t remember exactly when you were first able to heal things. All you know is that you can, and you do. When someone is in pain, you can’t keep yourself from helping them, no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Savior

“Help! Please! Someone!” 

You hear a man’s voice shrieking from the alley as you pass by. You pause for a moment as that familiar feeling in your stomach tugs at you, urging you to help the mystery man in the alley. ‘No Y/N,’ your brain jumps in, ‘You can’t go down there. You have no idea what danger lies there, and you know you can’t defend yourself. There could be men with guns or something. You could get yourself killed if you go down there!’

“HELP!!” You hear again from the alleyway. You take a step towards the noise, your gut telling you to go help now. You hesitate again as your brain reminds you of the possible danger. You quickly dismiss the thoughts, though, and dash down the alley toward the cries for help.

As you run down the alley, a figure comes into view. There’s a thin male slumped over on the ground. It’s dark in the alley, but the small amount of sunlight that reaches in the alley allows you to make out his soft features. He clutches his stomach as his gaze finds you. His hopelessness lifts and he attempts to get up to come to you.

“Please, help-”

You reach out to grab his arm and guide him back to the ground. Just then, you notice the deep crimson color soaking the stomach area of his shirt. You lay him down on the cool concrete and attempt to reassure him.

“Here, just lay down. I’m going to help you, okay?”

He softly smiles and nods, and you can see the panic he’s trying to hide in his eyes. “Please, I… I don’t want to die-” He begs in a raspy voice, and you notice the blood rising into his mouth. He’s near death now and you both know it. 

“Shh…” You beckon as you take your hand and cup his cheek which is stained with tears. “Don’t speak. Just relax. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m just going to place my hand on the wound, yeah? Don’t panic.” He lays unmoving as if already gone, but his chest still frantically rises and falls, trying to get oxygen and keep his body alive. Swiftly, you reach under his shirt and feel the deep stab wound just below his chest. He winces in pain at the sudden contact to his open wound. “I’m sorry… just bear with me, dear…”  
He closes his eyes as he slowly drifts closer to death. You gently press down on the wound and focus all of your energy on the healing the dying boy before you. You feel his wound close, and you know that internally, where most of the damage was occurring, is healing as well. The boy’s eyes flutter open and he wears a lost look on his face as he catches your gaze.

“Hi, um…” You begin, “I’m going to take you to my apartment, okay? I know you’re exhausted, but if you can stand I’ll help you walk. My apartment is only two buildings down.” The boy slowly nods and somehow manages to get to his feet. You carefully walk the boy, whose eyes only stare straight ahead, unfocused and already practically unconscious, to your apartment building and up to your room.

The moment you lay him on your bed, he passes out from sheer exhaustion. You stand there for a moment, amazed at how peaceful someone who was recently stabbed in the stomach could look. The boy was truly a beautiful sight: tan skin, pink lips, and pitch black hair. You suddenly realize that his thin, white V-neck is still torn and stained red with blood. You consider your options and reach for the scissors on your desk. You cautiously cut the bloody shirt off of the boy and dispose of it in your trash can. You try not to notice his perfectly toned abs as you drape a blanket over his sleeping form. You silently exit the room and drift off on the couch; using your power always drains your energy.

~~~~~~~~

You wake to the sound of coughing coming from your room. Immediately, the events of the day come flooding back to you. You jump up, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and run into your room to see the boy you saved sitting up in your bed with a puzzled look on his face. You reach out and hand him the water, which he graciously accepts. He gulps down the water before he speaks.

“What…where…wh-” he struggles to find his words.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” You ask calmly and take a step towards the bed. He nods hesitantly. You sit on the edge of the bed. “Ask me any questions you have, okay? But first know that you’re perfectly fine and not dead. I’ve gotten that question too many times.” You joke in an attempt to lighten the mood. He just blinks at you in confusion. “S-sorry.”

He considers what his first question will be. “Where am I?”

“My apartment.”

“And who are you?”

“Oh, um, my name is Y/N. Uh, what’s yours?”

“Taemin.”

“Hi, Taemin.” You smile, but he only nods in response.

“Hi. How am I… alive?”

“Ah, right, the big question. Well, I don’t know how exactly to explain it, but I have these powers. I can heal people. I don’t know why or how, but I can, and I always have been able to.”

“Oh, uh, okay…” He examines you silently for a moment.

“It’s best if you don’t try to figure out how. I stopped trying years ago. It makes no sense, I know, but it’s just how I am. Sorry... I don’t have all the answers.”

He simply nods as if deciding to move on from those questions. “Why am I… where is my shirt?” He asks accusingly.

“Oh, sorry! It was torn and stained with blood, so I thought it best to just get it off of you so you didn’t freak out when you woke up. I can buy you a new one or something.”

“No, it’s okay.” You both sit awkwardly in silence for what feels like forever.

“Are you hungry?”

He nods again.

“Then I’ll go whip something up. Just stay here and rest. It’s essential to your recovery.” 

You make your way to the kitchen and fix up a packet of Ramen noodles you find in your cabinet. You offer Taemin the bowl of noodles and another bottled water. You turn to leave and give him time to think.

“Y/N?” He calls out. You turn back around.

“Hm?”

“Would you stay here while I eat? I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around all this.”

“Sure, I understand.” You sit back on the edge of the bed and watch as he shovels the noodles into his mouth. You wonder when he last ate. “So, Taemin…”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to tell me what happened to you?”

“Uh, no.” He shakes his head and continues chowing down. He looks back up from his meal. “I was just hanging out, and some random muggers came. They stole my wallet and then stabbed me before they ran off."

“Okay,” You nod, “You’re lying to me. Got it.”

His eyes widen and he stares at you. “What? How do you know that? Is that like, a part of your powers or something?”

“Yep,” You smile, “It’s what they call ‘I’m not stupid and can tell when someone is lying to me,’ it’s a really interesting power.” He frowns at your sarcasm and goes back to eating his food. When he finally finishes eating, you take his empty bowl back to the kitchen.

“Y/N??” He shouts.

“Yes?” You respond.

“Are you… coming back?” You giggle at the question and head back to your room. 

“I’m back. Do you need something?”

“No, it’s just,” his cheeks turn a light pink color as he speaks, “I was just curious. Will you stay in here with me?”

“Um, sure, Taemin. I’ll be right here if you need me. Get some more rest, please.” You sit next to him in bed and pick up your book from the bedside table. “I’ll just be reading here if you need me or have any more questions.”

He closes his eyes and hums in response. As he's drifting off to sleep, he mumbles, “You’re like my own, personal angel." You roll your eyes at the absurdity of his comment, but can't help the blush that paints your cheeks.


End file.
